Bullseye
by Shizuku Tsukishima749
Summary: When the Joker escapes from Arkham Asylum, he targets Robin to get to his greatest adversary. But the new team, the new family, of Young Justice won't let him be taken so easily.
1. Bullseye

_A/N: Reason Behind This: _I've been watching both YJ and Batman: The Animated Series lately, and so two days ago I started to wonder what would happen if the Joker found out about Robin's new YJ position (_away from Batman_). Thus, this was born!

* * *

**Bullseye**

When Batman shows up at Mount Justice unexpectedly, the team knows it must be serious. Their mission-dispatcher _never _comes around unless it's something big, and even with his mask and schooled expression there is a noticeable tightness to his features.

The imposing man stands before them, scanning each face intently. The intensity of his gaze amplifies with each child. Finally, when he pauses on Robin and doesn't let up, there is such a severe glint to his eyes and a tension suggesting clenched teeth that Robin just _knows_:

Something is very, very wrong.

"What's happened?" he asks quickly, almost breathlessly, stepping forward to grasp his mentor's arm in a tight grip and gaze into Batman's eyes. "Is everyone all right?"

He sounds so serious now, so very much the leader of the team he is meant to be. Though admittedly this is only what the others hear, for this is the wordless plea: _Please don't say it… __Please_ _don't…_

This last his mentor alone is able to decipher. And truly, the fear that someone he loves has been hurt, that someone has died, is not misplaced. Their line of work often conjures such panicked feelings, but it has always been a particularly vital issue for Robin. Ever since…since he lost his parents…this has been his worst fear, and though Batman has done his best to curb its extremity, it chooses its moments to surface.

Like now (though this is mild in comparison to some of the child's early panic attacks).

Batman lays a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Looks like this will prove harder than he'd hoped…

"Everyone's fine, Robin. I promise." The boy nods slowly. Batman offers a ghost of a smile, so much so that he can guarantee the others missed it entirely. He lifts his head now, speaking to the collective group as one. "I'm here to warn you about a new threat, one of the most dangerous criminals I've ever fought."

Robin's breath hitches as he stiffens beneath Batman's arm. The Dark Knight's grip tightens, and his jaw's set is far harsher than as per usual; Robin can only remember a handful of times he's seen the man so on edge.

Batman is well-aware that he is behaving differently, that he is showing more emotion toward Robin and his teammates than he normally does. But he can't help it. Not with this pitfall.

"Whatever it is, we're ready to hear it, sir," Aqualad assures, resting a hand on Superboy and Miss Martian's backs. Each nods in agreement, Kid Flash joining in from beside the alien girl.

"We can handle it, Batman. We've tackled plenty together before!" the resident speedster pipes up, flashing an encouraging smile Robin's way. The younger boy's been staring at his mentor with furrowed brows for a while now.

The child's eyes are glinting behind his glasses, are raging and quaking and absolutely _blazing_. This is something he needs—_deserves_—to know. Much as the man hates to admit it, much as he would love to tackle this on his own without his Boy Wonder ever having to know, Batman understands that telling the boy is the best way to protect him.

And that is all he ever wants.

He takes the plunge. Head-first.

"The Joker has escaped from Arkham Asylum."

The room is so devoid of sound now that Superboy is positive he can hear the atoms moving about them.

Robin's eyes are wide as he blanches and clenches his fists. He swears the world has fallen out from underneath him once again.

"_What_?" he demands, though his voice is so croaky and startled that at first he doesn't recognize it as his own. "_Again_? But—but we _just put him away_! How—?"

He cuts himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose to help himself calm down. Batman doesn't blame him in the least for behaving this way. He'd reacted rather the same when Commissioner Gordon had told him the news.

The determined, yet innocent and somewhere-frightened eyes that are so undeniably Robin's peer up at his mentor, and Gotham's Defender must steel himself ever further to keep from sweeping the boy into his arms and hiding him away until all of this is over.

This is the one villain that Robin has had the horrid displeasure of getting to know the best over the years. He's the most dangerous, most ruthless, most insane criminal the Dynamic Duo has ever faced.

Robin has more than enough reason to be frustrated, more than enough reason to be _scared_.

"Do you…do you know what he wants, Batman?" Miss Martian questions gently, glancing swiftly at Robin's vulnerable form.

"Unfortunately, yes…" the muscled man answers, expression sinking to a new low while his thumb absently rubs the Boy Wonder's shoulder in an effort to soothe the thirteen-year-old. Walking over to the table that sprang up with an earlier push of a button, Robin is the first to follow, the others placing a protective hand on either his back or shoulders. _Don't forget_, they say. _We're here, too_.

Batman turns form the table, revealing a thick, heavy-looking slab of concrete, one with words messily written in what looks to be a slick, red ink. Robin pales further, and his friends look increasingly uneasy as well.

"W-what is that?" Kid Flash stutters, while knowing he won't like the answer.

The Dark Knight's knuckles turn white as his strong grip tightens, and Robin can see that it takes all of his strength not to smash the tablet on the floor. The fact that he hesitates at all is telling in and of itself.

"A message from the Joker, found written in blood on the wall of his cell," he growls lowly. "It's the only reason I'm involving the rest of you at all."

It reads:

"_Bat and Bird fly together,_

_Bat and Bird fly forever._

_But Bird without Bat,_

_Wings clipped and blood drawn,_

_Leaves just a carcass to find at dawn."_

Robin gulps, breath catching in his throat before it leaves him in a great rush, and he has just barely begun to tremble. His teammates' supportive presences calm him somewhat, but not enough to distract him from the terrible truth that's been unearthed.

As for his friends, this new development scares them more than anything they've faced in the span of their superhero careers. They've heard of this madman, even seen footage of his insane escapades, but they've never met him face-to-face. Not only that, but if the wall-writing means what they think it does, then this will undoubtedly be their most dangerous challenge yet.

"This is the real deal, then? This is…really happening?" Superboy inquires softly, closing his eyes and swallowing slowly in preparation to accept what all of them wish to deny.

Batman nods with a slow, sick solemnity.

"The Joker is after Robin."

* * *

_A/N: _I've always liked the father-son roles undertaken by Batman and Robin, as well as the friendships between the YJ characters. These will play a large part in the story.

If Robin seems a little OOC (afraid of the Joker, I mean), it's because even before Batman tells them, he can tell there's something much _worse_, much bigger, than just the Joker. He's afraid because he doesn't want anyone he loves to get hurt or die (if it's not obvious yet, that's his biggest fear). Furthermore, my main branch of the Batman franchise is the old Animates Series from the nineties, and since Batman expresses so much emotion even in the face of his worst enemies, I used that as my basis for Robin. I figure, if Batman can express emotion even with his emotional stealth training, then why can't Robin, right? *shrugs* Could just be me.

Also, as the Joker is so unpredictable, I'm hoping the poem above (on wall, written in blood) sounds like something he would say. It just came to me...

As this is my first YJ fic I've ever written, please tell me if I'm missing anything important or if you think something's off (especially since I'm exhausted right now...)! Thanks!

Thanks so much for reading, as always!


	2. Chisel Away

_A/N: Holy stinkin' crud_! I post a single chapter, and it gets more attention than anything else I've ever written on a first try! _Whoa_! You guys are the _best_! Thank you _so much _to all ninety-something of you who faved/reviewed/alerted! T.T I'm so _happy_! I pray you continue enjoying this as much you do already!

* * *

"_Me_?" the Boy Wonder sputters incredulously, eyes wide. "Sure, he hates us for foiling his schemes time and again, but why would—?"

He stops short. Batman is giving him a look, one he knows well and dreads even better. It spells out exactly what he was feeling earlier. His face contorts into a slight scowl, showing only a minute fraction of his discomfort as his stomach churns and his heart drops.

Batman nods. Much as it kills them both, the boy's found the answer.

The Joker's taken the ultimate coward's way.

"He means to get to me through _you_, Robin," the man affirms grimly.

The insane jester-inspired villain has gone from despising their perfect dynamic to using it to his advantage. In taking out the weakest link—and even if Robin is anything but weak as far as his mentor and his friends are concerned, when compared with Batman things are what they are—the greatest threat to his Empire of Fun-Fear shall crumble.

"Is there a plan in place yet?" Aqualad poses. "Have you talked it over with the League?"

Batman shakes his head. "I've decided not to tell anyone else just yet. I thought Robin and the rest of you had first right. Besides, Gotham and its villains are under _my _jurisdiction. No one gets involved in anything there unless I say so."

"But isn't a situation like this the exception to that rule?" Miss Martian asks, brow furrowing in confusion. "My people have similar standings as far as territory goes, but even we make exceptions when things get out of hand."

"It's _not_ out of hand!" Batman growls, reigning in his temper solely thanks to years of disciplined training. He softens and succeeds in striving to apologize to the startled girl through his noticeably softer next words. "Not yet. And as for a plan, I have one…" his eyes lock with the baby-blues of his young charge, "…although I don't think it'll go over well..."

And almost immediately Robin uncharacteristically explodes. "_No_!" he yells, making a diagonal slicing gesture across his body as his expression turns deadly. His teammates flinch; whatever this secret plan is, it _must _be bad to make their collected youngest lose his head like this. "You _can't_!"

"Can't what?" Superboy breaks in, bewilderment written over his face. "What aren't you saying?"

Batman sighs, closing his eyes tightly in immense frustration and inner pain. He _knew _something like this would happen…

"We leave two of you here with Robin while the rest of us take down the Joker."

This answer is not given without acute difficulty.

This is emotionally wracking for him as well. He knows exactly what his adoptive son is feeling—after all, he lost his parents when he was younger than Robin. He knows better than anyone else ever could what losing someone he loves feels like. He knows what it is to have nightmares of the night it happened. He knows what it's like to live with and be forced to repress the raging fear that it will happen again.

And he knows that this is what motivates the thirteen-year-old's sudden panic.

The poor boy can't stand to lose anyone else.

And for the life of him, Batman cannot bring himself to find fault in this angel-child.

"Robin," he pleads, timbre soothing and no-nonsense all at once, "this might be the only chance we have at killing two birds with one stone..." He lets the rest hang in the seconds of silence that follow. Even in his harried state, Robin gets the message.

But still the Boy Wonder refuses to back down. There is too much injured fire burning in his heart, too much queasiness bubbling within him. He remembers the deaths of his parents so very vividly; he _cannot _face that again!

"You _know_ me, Batman," he presses, eyes narrowed fiercely at his mentor even as the smallest smirk comes and goes, "sometimes better than even I know myself."

Something is communicated silently between the two of them even as these words are said, and Batman's face scrunches. _Don't you know why I'm doing this?_ the older entreats silently. _Can't you see that everything you are _is _me?_

"That's not fair!" Robin retorts, tone wavering on a level solely known to his mentor. "You _know _it's not! You've been both my savior and my Father since the day you saved me! Everything _you_ are is _me_!" He sweeps his arm out in a wide arc to capture the rest of Young Justice. "My friends are a part of your inner circle now, just as yours are of mine! You _know_ how I feel about them!" His voice audibly breaks now on the emphasized word, and his friends meet his glance as strongly as ever. "Why don't you understand that I can't live without you here? Without _them _here?"

The night personified can say nothing. All Robin has said is true. His own ties with the members of the Justice League are as strong as this, growing increasingly stronger with each passing day. By now, living without them seems…more like a living nightmare than a could-be reality.

But in of all of this, there is one sure-fire thing he knows without a shadow of a doubt: life without his beloved son would not be worth living.

And it is for this reason that he even partially concedes.

"I _do _see, Robin," he insists, and the sincerity in the low, tender tone his voice takes on washes over the Boy Wonder one hundred fold. "I've _been _where you are right now; I _understand _what you're feeling perhaps better than you do," his eyes plead for his charge to _truly_ hear him, "which is why I need you to trust me." Robin turns his face away defiantly, fists clenched and shoulders tense. Batman reaches down with two fingers to gently tilt the child's face upward in order to look him in the eye. "I'll take care of them, Robin," he vows, in a voice so guarding and heartfelt that the teen's overhead-black cloud lets up for an instant. "I promise you I will."

Robin reaches up to take Batman's wrist in a tight, holding-him-to-it grasp. He squeezes lovingly all through, praying the gesture provides at least in part how grateful he is for everything this wonderful man is trying to do for him.

All the same, he cannot allow himself to quit this fight.

"Anywhere my team goes, I go." _I'm sorry_, he adds inwardly. _So sorry_. _But at least you know my reasons_. "There's no stopping me, and you know it."

A stretching moment here, and what seems to take no more than an instant for the Dynamic Duo is an eternity and then some.

Batman pulls back at last, discreetly caressing his adoptive son's cheek, while Robin leans in to the touch of the man who has always been his light in the darkness.

Believe it or not, something has been won today, indeed.

When the mission-dispatcher focuses his attention on the four patiently-waiting team members once more, he can't quite grasp the appropriate way to describe them. They are a peculiar mix of somber, protective, and born-ready.

"So what's the verdict?" Kid Flash questions anxiously. "Are we splitting up or not?"

Batman looks to Robin, who steps forward. He peers intently into each pair of eyes, his determined countenance leaving no room for argument.

"I'm coming with you."

* * *

_A/N: _I edited, but it's past midnight and I'm an hour late to bed...and with a big Trigonometry test in the morning and A.P. Physics shortly after...I gotta get to bed! If I missed anything, please tell me!

To those who noticed how the rest of YJ seemed to fade into the background once Batman and Robin started duking it out, it's because they understand that this is a private matter between the tw of them, something they need to work out themselves. Just to clear things up. XD

Thanks so much for reading, as always! You guys are _absolutely amazing_!


	3. Whelmed

_A/N: _I'm _so sorry _I failed to update last night like I promised! I was all set to do so, I swear, but after a few minutes I got so tired I was literally falling out of my chair! And because I was so tired my writing was crappy, and both you guys and my self-respect deserve far more than that! Thus I waited until today to revise and finish this.

I will warn you, though: this chapter, for some reason, was extremely hard for me to write, hence the reason for its reduced size in comparison with the first two. For that I apologize and cross my fingers in hopes that the next chapter will be easier and you'll still like this one all the same (even if not as much).

And once again, _holy cow_! Two chapters, and on the cusp of _60 reviews and even more favs and alerts (not counting deviantART_)! Wow! Thanks so much to everyone for having so much faith in this fic even when it bogs me down (like this chapter did)! I can't thank you enough for your awesome support!

* * *

Deafening silence reigns for a split second. The four remaining teammates trade glances, and it really comes as no surprise when they don't take it as well as Robin would have liked.

"Are you _insane_?" Superboy bursts out all at once, voice rising in volume with each word. "You'll only be playing into his hands!" Beside him, Aqualad takes sixteen-year-old's hand and rubs slow circles on its back with his thumb, calming the clone immensely. Truly, Superboy is only being protective—ever since he met the child, there has always been a guarding connection between them—and neither Batman nor the Boy Wonder can thank him enough for that. He clenches his free fist and closes his sky-blue eyes tightly. Several seconds pass before they open again, begging silently. "Please…I'm asking you to reconsider. "

Kid Flash zooms around Batman to skid to a halt at Robin's side, folding his arms across his chest and staring intently at his best friend. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Robin is basking in the fact that he's never seen the speedster look so serious.

"Look, man," Kid Flash says, putting his hands on his hips, "you've been in this business longer than any of us, and you know the Joker inside and out. None of us blame you for wanting to kick some serious deranged-clown butt! But as your best friend, I have to side with Supey on this." He quirks a smile and extends a hand toward Batman. "Besides, we won't be going in alone if we've got Bats here!"

Robin smiles minutely. In all honesty, he'd expected this from his friends, protective and wonderful as they are. But no matter what they say, no matter how much it hurts him to see their pain, he's still going—_nothing _will change that.

And even with Batman there, he considers, if anything were to happen to any one of them while Robin himself was hiding away, he would never forgive himself.

"I agree, Robin!" Miss Martian butts in, flying forward and taking Robin's hands in hers. "Last night, my galaxy readings suggested something ominous in the near future, and now I know that _this_ is what they meant!" She shakes her head furiously, tears entering her eyes and coloring her voice. "_Please _don't go!"

Aqualad touches both Kid Flash and Miss Martian gently on the arm, and the two teens stand down as their team leader rests a warm hand on Robin's shoulder.

"Your decision to accompany us is a noble one, Robin, and despite our guarding impulses, we are glad to have you. But—" his eyes flash suddenly, darting Batman's way before flitting back to the younger boy, "—are you _sure _this is what you want? You realize there is no going back."

Batman's protégé has never looked more like his mentor than he does now. Indomitable. Fierce. Ever-loving.

"Of _course_ I am," he assures lowly, peering up into Aqualad's eyes with all the ferociousness the undersea-boy expects from the Dark Knight's under-wing. "I won't let you put your lives at risk to fight _my _battles." His narrowed eyes lock onto the floor, clenched fists trembling as his mind flows into dangerous territory. "I've come too close to losing those I care about too many times before. If it were to happen again…" he trails here, with so much strife tinting his warbling voice that he almost can't catch his breath. Batman, catching on in a fraction of a second, rests a large hand on the boy's free shoulder and squeezes strongly. At this Robin's airflow frees, and he breathes deeply prior to looking up at his team with a far calmer air, though they can sense the swirling, painful memories that linger just beneath. "If putting myself in the heat of things means keeping everyone I love safe, then so be it."

Aqualad nods slowly, understandingly, and with utmost respect before taking a step back. The child will be a leader to outshine all the others one day. Aqualad can feel it.

"Then it's decided," Batman settles. "Young Justice, move out!"

* * *

Once Miss Martian's cloaked Bio-Ship leaves Mount Justice behind, Superboy asks something that makes the others wonder why the matter hadn't been addressed earlier.

"We're not just going to waste time scouting around for him, are we? We _do _know where he is, right?"

Kid Flash, Miss Martian, and Aqualad turn to gaze at Batman as well.

"No, we're not," Batman answers gruffly, "and his location has been right under your noses the whole time."

"The answer's in the poem," Robin picks up, expression drawn as he forces back a demon his friend's can't help him fight. "'But Bird without Bat/Wings clipped and blood drawn/Leaves just a carcass to find at dawn,'" he recites, staring down at his lap. All the while, he's been absentmindedly digging his nails into his flesh with an animalistic fury, and after another moment, Batman reaches over to lay both hands on his charge's to prevent him from piercing his body-armor and drawing blood. The Dark Knight's eyes narrow meaningfully, and the boy soothes with a soft, loving smile. Sighing, he folds his hands in his lap and reveals softly, "A deserted tract of land just outside of Gotham, where Batman and I first met."

-The circus grounds.-

* * *

_A/N: _If you don't understand how the poem explains the Joker's location, let me explain (I actually just thought that detail up as I was writing this chapter; it was only meant to have the first chapter's meaning and nothing else, initially): Batman and Robin are an unbreakable team. Yet, in watching his parents die Robin was all alone, scarred and feeling like he could never 'fly' again. With no Batman around (just yet; pretend Robin's just run to their blood-covered bodies), he feels dead and lifeless. Joker wants to remind Robin of that time in order to play with his mind while also revealing his location in that sick way of his.

Also, none of the boy-boy interactions are meant to be taken as slash (no offense to those who like it). In my fics the male teammates will only ever be what they are: teammates. (Though that doesn't rule out the girl-boy relationships...though I'll tell you now I'm not a romance person.) Just to let you guys know.

Explanation of Robin and Superboy's interaction (as they might not seem as close in the show as they do to me) : since the first-second episodes when Robin helped Superboy up after he really got thrashed by Blockbuster, and then when Superboy jumped on top of Robin to shield him from the crumbling building, I was convinced they had some kind of connection.

One of my readers on devART, Mana-hime, was inspired by the Joker's poem to the point where a beautiful art piece came out of it (appropriately called "Bat and Bird...")! If you'd like to view this gorgeous masterpiece, go to the deviantART website, switch categories from 'Popular' to 'Newest,' then type in the title of the picture. It'll be in 'Scaps' with the 'Mature Rating' gray stop-sign symbol on it.

Thanks so much for reading, as always!


	4. Crashdown

_A/N: _See? Told you! This one was _way _easier! XD Thanks so much to all of you who faved/alerted/reviewed last chapter! Your support, even in the face of my uncertainty concerning that chapter, really kept me going! I love you all!

**Notifications:**

_Italics_ beginning with "Ladies and gentlemen..." and ending with "'The Flying Graysons": Mr. Haley of the Haley Circus on the recording.

_Disclaimer _(just because I've forgotten for three chapters in a row XD)_: _I don't own Young Justice. Er...Cartoon Network...does...? Well, whoever owns it, owns it...as well as stinking rules all that is awesome! Am I right, or am I right? ..._Booyah_! I'm right!

* * *

They reach the site two hours later. The party disembarks as the Bio-Ship lands and reverts to its invisible stand-by form. The forest surrounding them, kept thin back when events were held here, has grown dense in its years of abandonment.

But Robin only has eyes for the black light-beam pooling at the enormous clearing's center.

Twin distorted patches glow a bright purple-white.

Above, a trapeze swings from the connecting bar.

Bile rises in the thirteen-year-old's throat as he closes his eyes against the burning tears. His heart beats against his chest like it hasn't since that fateful night.

_Dear God in Heaven…_

The Joker...he—he _knows_! He doesn't know how, but he _knows_! And now he's—he's _toying_ with him! _Dear_ _Lord_…!

All at once, a high-pitched _whoosh! _meets his ear, Batman's at his side as well, and in perfectly synchronized movements they turn to warn the others.

"_Down_!"

They obey instantly, looking up to find an Ace of Spades two inches deep in a tree, the exact spot where Aqualad's head had been.

An insane cackle fills the air as explosive toy soldiers rain down upon them, forcing them to take cover in the trees. Batman, pulling Robin behind one of the thicker oaks once he surmises they're far enough away, curls the boy protectively against his chest as the multiple blasts go off.

Once the area is again noiseless apart from that haunting laugh, a weak-stomached Robin pulls back. "Batman…" he utters shakily, eyes piercing his mentor's and delving into the depths of his soul, "…he _knows_."

Batman's eyes widen, then narrow fiercely. Gripping his adoptive son's shoulders tightly, he demands, "_How_?"

Robin shakes his head.

"I-I don't know! But the _blood_…and the _trapeze_…!" His voice chokes and quiets ever further as the words pour out, and he has no choice but to shut his eyes again. "I don't know…"

Batman opens his mouth to answer, but what is heard in place of his deep tones chills both to the core.

The noise of a wildly cheering crowd fills the air, and a voice tucked away in Robin's memory bursts out of nowhere.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce our final act for this evening!" _Snare drums beat wildly, ceasing when the cymbals sound a moment later. _"'The Flying Graysons!'"_

The spectators are even louder now, but Robin has stopped listening. That's Mr. Haley's voice! And—and this recording, it—it's from—!

He is startled out of his panicked thoughts as the sickeningly-familiar swinging of weighted trapeze ropes fills his ears. He raises feverishly trembling hands to cover them, eyes closing ever more. He doesn't want to hear it, what comes next—he can't bear to live through it a second time!

But fate is working against him this night, for his ears attune themselves to the recording's frequencies nonetheless.

A high-wire snaps.

A Mother and Father profess their love for their child for the last time.

Gasps, screams, and pounding feet take precedence.

A little boy's frantic cries rise fathoms above the rest.

That same child's sobs are all left in the silence that follows as he chants his parents' names—

And then, all at once, it stops. Abruptly, as if the recorder itself were smashed.

But neither Batman nor the remainder of Young Justice is paying any attention to that. Rather, they are focusing their energies on Robin.

The thirteen-year-old, shaking uncontrollably as tears cascade unceasingly, crumbles to his hands and knees seconds before retching violently under cover of brush. Managing little more than a breath between each heave, the child's tears mix with his sweat and drip from his nose, chin, and hair. Coming up beside him, Batman rubs the Boy Wonder's back soothingly, the way he has every time the boy has had this nightmare since coming into his home.

Given another several minutes, Robin is left with only dry heaves, and even these stop in time.

"R-Rob?" Kid Flash stutters, unable to think of anything else to say. This is the first time any of them have ever seen their friend so emotionally struck as this. It's frightening and eye-opening all in one.

Batman's protégé says nothing, not even seeming to hear him. Instead, he presses his ear to his mentor's chest and concentrates on the steady beating of the strong heart within. The Caped Crusader's arms encase him tighter than they ever have before, and no comment is made as a lone tear escapes to land on his beloved child's neck.

Without doubt, the Joker will _pay _for this. _Dearly_ and _painfully_.

"Oh, Robin!" a deranged voice sing-songs into the night. Batman grits his teeth as Robin emits a sound that is almost feral. "Dear Boy Blunder! Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"Is—is that him?" Miss Martian whispers, a chill running down her spine.

Both halves of the Dynamic Duo nod decisively, trained ears and eyes analyzing their surroundings on a level above any government agent's.

"Did you like that blast to your past, Bird Boy? I thought the black light and trapeze were a nice touch, don't you agree?" the Joker taunts, falling back on peals of laughter. "Do you know what's funnier than a mob boss being defeated by a child? _No_? I'll tell you: a circus act gone wrong!"

Robin roars.

That's _enough_! _No one _talks about his parents like that!

Extracting his collapsed bo staff from his utility belt, he grasps the weapon so forcefully that those in his company aren't sure how it isn't broken in two.

"We're going after him," he growls savagely. "Trap or no trap, he's going down."

Wordlessly, Batman extracts a batarang from his own belt-pack as the others follow suit. With determined glances all around, they move in.

Bypassing the holes made by the earlier explosions, Robin scans the vicinity for any sign of the Joker. A faint click perks his ear, and the boy uses the skills ingrained in him from toddlerhood to do a back handspring and land soundlessly on his feet several paces away.

Three darts filled with Joker Venom stick out of the ground where he'd stood. The deranged criminal can't fire all of those at once, Robin knows. He must have help—!

And speak of the Joker, a handful of the madman's past lackeys leap from the shadows and engage Robin's friends and Batman in combat. Looks like things just went from bad to worse…

Looking up, Robin finds the chemically-altered man standing on the trapeze like a balance beam, shifting his weight so as to swing back and forth. Throwing a batarang, Robin is not amused when the man merely ducks and jerks the high wire out of the way with a fierce tug.

"What a pity, little Robin! You seem to be losing your touch!" The Joker's red lips curl into the terrible smile that so often haunts the teenager's nightmares. "I guess Batty-dear's finally given up on his Boy Blunder!"

The boy seizes at the first and last bits—the nickname his Mother gave him and the slight against the man who is his everything—but eases into a smirk when he sees something the Joker doesn't.

"I'd say you're the one losing your touch, Joker! Didn't Batman tell you? Batarangs _always_ come back!" he jeers, chuckling at the man's startled face as he turns to look.

Indeed, the batarang swerves at just the right angle to slice across the Joker's forehead and return to Robin's hand. He is about to charge when a 'Bang!'-flagged harpoon zooming in front of him stops him dead in his tracks. Snapping his neck to its source, his eyes widen to see Harley Quinn standing there. Batman hadn't said anything about her!

"Don't think you're gonna get to my Dean of Dastardliness that easy, Bat Boy!"

She points the gun at him again, and he extends his bo staff as sinks into a defensive position. He'll make short work of her, and then he'll make his move on the Joker.

She slinks forward and feigns a left hook, using this advantage to take hold of his arm and twist it behind his back. A scream escapes him as his arm is mere seconds away from being dislocated, and he throws his head back to meet hers. A satisfying crunch is heard as her nose breaks, and Harley shrieks, dropping her gun to raise both hands to the bleeding mass of bone and cartilage.

Grinning smugly, he tosses over his shoulder as he vaults over her and runs in the direction of her twisted beloved, "Hey! Red nose! Way to match the clown motif!"

Just when he is about to shoot his grappling hook, however, six armed thugs surround the Boy Wonder.

"You ain't gettin' nowhere near the boss, kid!" one of them, the apparent ringleader, declares. "Get 'im, boys!"

They open fire, and Robin, performing a back flip and running in a wide arc, twirls his bo staff rapidly to deflect the barrage of bullets. Zigzagging to confuse his assailants, he drops to the ground and literally sweeps half of them off their feet with his staff. Popping up like a Jack-in-the-Box, he punches out another prior to defeating the remaining two with a double-kill roundhouse kick-handspring.

Breathing heavily, he observes the battlefield.

Aqualad is faring well against two of the goons, electrocuting their water-doused bodies by way of his eel tattoos.

Kid Flash is comically frustrating his three thugs by disappearing and reappearing at different spots, playing with them in the form of taking their weapons, pulling their beanies down over their eyes, and yanking down their pants.

Superboy and Miss Martian are working back to back as they take on ten fighters total. Superboy slams his fists into the ground, creating a mini-earthquake limited to the few feet in front of him and causing most of the men to fall unconscious as their heads smack against the rumbling earth. Meanwhile, Miss Martian uses her telekinesis to destroy the others' weapons and slam the thugs themselves into trees.

He doesn't see Batman anywhere, but he's not worried. After years of working with the man, he is well-versed in the Dark Knight's knack for popping up when he's needed the most.

Shifting his attention to his arch-nemesis at last, he glares.

_You're mine!_

* * *

_A/N: _The mystery of how the Joker found out about Robin's identity will be revealed next chapter (which may or may not be the last one). And that _is _a tape recording of the night Robin's parents die. You'll find out how he got that next chapter, too...as well as where Batman went.

By the blood of Robin's parents, of course I mean the cleaned-up blood that solely becomes visible under black lights (like the ones in CSI). So to clear that up, it's not actual blood or paint: just the stains. As for how it's survived there for four years...I actually don't know. XD I just thought it'd be an awesome plot device.

And as for the 'Dear God in Heaven' and stuff, at least in BTAS, Batman says stuff like that a lot, and I know he said it once or so in the comic, "A Death in the Family," and since Robin's protege...why not have him take after it, right?

Sorry if I missed anything! I'm supposed to be in bed in a few minutes, and I still have to post this on dA! In a hurry! XD

Thanks so much for reading, as always!


	5. Frontal Assault

_A/N: Yes_! We broke one hundred stinkin' reviews (again, not counting devART) and even more favs and alerts! _Awesome_! I love you guys so much! You're the best! Thank you all!

* * *

Marching toward the Joker, the Boy Wonder does not stop for anything. He dodges bullets and takes down thugs from a distance, not even truly seeing them. His friends are handling the rest of these chumps just fine.

In his mind's eye, he can see them urging him on, encouraging him. _Go now_, they say. _This is your fight. We'll be here if you need us. _

He nods silently, eyes slits as four batarangs slip in between his fingers.

The King of Jesters has dared mess with his family, past and present.

He goes down. _Tonight_.

"Do you want to know _how_ I came to know your identity, boy?" the Joker humors, the noise of the battleground doing nothing to drown out his repulsive voice. "It's a truly glorious tale of murder and hilarity!" It's sudden, the cruel smile that distorts his face now, the evil eyes that glint menacingly. "Does the name _Anthony Zucco _ring any bells? _Hmm_?"

Robin goes stock-still, choking on his own breath. He is as pale as the moon above, he knows.

But dear Lord help him, he can't _help _it.

Because for all he is, everything he's ever been and ever will be, the protectorate mob boss is his parents' _murderer_! The one who stripped a nine-year-old child of absolutely everything, just when all the wonders of the world had been at his fingertips!

He's faced all of this over again once tonight already. To do so _twice _would just be cruel and unusual punishment.

But then, Robin knows that this is the Joker's specialty.

Flinging the batarangs with calculated accuracy at four different angles, he studies their paths. Unless the criminal pulls one of his stunts again, they should—

His thoughts are cut off abruptly, growling in the back of his throat. The man has raised his new-and-fancy armored wrist-cuffs to block the attacks from both front and back, jerking the trapeze again and cackling wildly as he goes.

And Robin swears it is done just for the sake of irking him when the nutcase continues his one-sided conversation.

"Rather a pathetic one, that Zucco! He kept insisting that the only reason he relocated in the first place was to escape Mr. and Mrs. Birdie's…" he gives a huff of mocking laughter, "…_whelp_! As if _that _were supposed to re-emasculate him after he was subdued by a weakling _child_!" Leaning forward, he squints at Robin as one hand shades his eyes, despite the fact that the Sun dropped below the horizon long ago. "Eh, Boy Blunder? I certainly don't see what had him so intimidated, do you?"

With a righteous cry Robin rushes forward, his grappling hook twining around the thick head of the black light. Running in a wide semi-circle at a speed that would put most track stars to shame, he uses a large rock as leverage in throwing himself into the wind, swinging straight for the vile excuse for a human being.

The Joker cannot dodge this one. The Boy Wonder's steel-plated boot strikes him in the jaw, and there is a satisfying _thwack! _that fills the air. Robin, recalling his tool, crouches as skillfully as a cat on the connecting bar (just like his wire-walking circus friend had taught him so many years ago) and smirks.

"How's that for 'unintimidating?'" Wrapping both hands around the bar, he lets himself fall to the side until he's hanging upside down. He inches along in a fashion not unlike a reptile until he is directly in front of the Joker, at which point he leans in, teeth gritted and eyes blazing hatefully. "Now," he demands, "what were you saying before? About _him_?"

The green-haired man's face contorts wickedly, looking even more frightening now that there is a thin stream of blood trickling down the side of his mouth. Disregarding their limited space, he backs up three steps.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know, little Robin?" His eyes glow with an equally spiteful light. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Without warning now, he flips backward slowly, a move which carries with it an odd sort of grace that Robin can't quite describe, though the thirteen-year-old wastes no time in following suit.

But as his descent begins and he takes in the familiar sink of his stomach, he wonders if perhaps he should have thought this part through a little more.

After all, they're falling at an extremely rapid rate right now, and nothing's below them except…wait..._that's it_!

Directly beneath them (Robin has no idea how he managed to miss it) towers a circus tent, just like the one that had been his home for the majority of the first nine years of his life. But…but why would the Joker want a hole in the top?

Robin doesn't bother to dwell on this for long. Honestly, he can't remember when one of the Joker's plans has ever made sense to him right away, if at all. Besides, knowing the self-proclaimed jokester's usual ways, Robin's better off _not _knowing.

The man disappears through the hole, and though the boy does the same only seconds later it would seem the Joker has given him the slip. Batman's protégé stands in the center of the circus ring, a place he remembers feeling so at home at one time...

Unfortunately, he cannot let the beloved and much-missed feeling fill him now. He has a personal vendetta here.

"_Amazing_ what one can learn while in the nuthouse, no?" Robin's head jerks upward at the voice, though it appears to be coming from everywhere at once. "We were cell-neighbors, Tony and I. The snot-ball never stopped talking about some little brat in a fancy costume who wiped the floor with him!" The Joker's disturbing laughter bursts forth and echoes eerily; now Robin knows how his team feels when he disappears on them and leaves only his chuckles behind. "But when he mentioned Ol' Batsy's name, I simply _had _to enquire after _you_, my boy! He told me the whole story in _great _detail, down to your and Brucie's real names and _everything _in between," a spotlight switches on, traveling to the top of the stands on the side farthest from Robin and bathing the beaming criminal mastermind in an unholy pale white, "_Richard_!" On cue, Robin's insides turn to ice; he can hardly breathe past the cold. A stubborn lump in his throat won't be forced down, and he can feel the mass amounts of acidic bile swishing at its base. "Naturally, we were both out for revenge, and what better way than a partnership, eh? He provided the recording—said it'd been his lullaby each night before hitting the hay—Quinn broke me out, and, well," his arms outstretch to indicate not only their location, but also the entire situation at hand, "here we are!"

Robin is shaking out of unbridled rage by now, shoulders tense and fists clenched so tightly at his sides that they are swiftly going numb. This—this is all for _revenge_? Because Robin and Batman's sole mission in life is to protect the people they love? That was—!

And the teen can take no more.

"_Shut up_!"

He bolts across the room and practically flies up the stairs, but the Harlequin of Hate doesn't move an inch, only continues to grin in that disturbing way of his. The famed protégé of the Dark Knight catches up with him in seconds, although the boy knows this won't be an easy fight. It never is.

Throwing punches and kicking out as quickly and accurately as he is able, the thirteen-year-old must bite the inside of his cheek to keep from giving in to his emotions completely. His mentor trained him better than that.

The maniac dodges nearly every one of the blows, occasionally blocking some of the closer shots with his armor-plated cuffs. He keeps his eyes locked on Robin's all the while, and the child notes that there is something more to them than usual, something…sinister and jovially-conniving all in one. Robin doesn't like it one bit.

And in the following moment, he knows why.

In a movement quicker than any Robin has ever witnessed from him, a white-gloved hand shoots toward the youngster's face and rips his domino mask clean-off.

Screaming at the pain that comes as a result, Robin is caught off guard just enough for the Joker to get a foot in edgewise. Lifting the doubled-over child off the ground by his collar, he proceeds to toss him down the stairs with a casual flick of his wrist.

Halfway down, Robin reaches out blindly to latch on to the back of one of the stand-chairs, roughly yet effectively stopping his torment. The pain around his eyes has begun to subside by now, and while he pulls his bruised body to his feet, he rubs the area around the now-exposed baby-blues.

The Joker walks down the stairs toward him, looking almost like Two-Face without his coin.

"You knew, didn't you, Dick?" the villain pesters silkily. "You overheard Anthony Zucco threaten Mr. Haley, tell him he'd regret not taking him up on his offer!" The Joker throws his head back to emit a condescending laugh, bending forward to poke Robin in the chest with a knife-twisting finger. "_You _could have saved your dear Mommy and Daddy, couldn't you, Richard? If only you'd warned them, _hmm_?" He reels back, waving a dismissive hand and wiping a fake tear from his eye. "Oh, but you were such a _trusting _little boy! You were too _naïve_ to grasp the true vitality of the situation!" He chortles all the more, longer and louder this time than he has yet. "_You _killed them! _It's_ _all your fault_!"

Something inside Robin snaps.

Extracting his bo staff from his utility belt and extending it quicker than his adversary can blink, he brings it up to smash against the Joker's chin, his cheeks, his forehead, his legs, his arms, his torso, his chest—absolutely anywhere he can reach.

It feels so _good _to land these blows, to know that bruises are forming, that bones are snapping, that rich red blood is pooling in his mouth!

But there's something about the way that the Joker's just _taking _it, does nothing to defend himself, but instead merely persists in that sick smile of his all through the pain. There's a secret hidden in his smile, behind his blissfully-closed eyes, and the Boy Wonder conjectures whether even Batman could find fault in the sudden fear that grips him.

For though the Joker has always been immensely intelligent, perhaps more so than he is insane, he's never been this ready for everything Robin's thrown at him, been this prepared to counterattack.

He's gotten better somehow, has found a seriously effective method of combining his trickery with his enhanced combat skills.

This is a new-and-improved Joker, then.

But Young Justice's youngest isn't about to let that stop him.

He is forced out of his thoughts when the criminal uses the milliseconds in between blows to his advantage, reaching over to squeeze the flower tucked into his lapel. Acid spews forth, and Robin has to leap back to escape liquefaction.

He doesn't escape entirely unscathed, however, as his staff begins to melt at its base. Forced to discard it, Robin charges back in without missing a beat. In the middle of the flurry of punches and kicks that follows, he manages to get in close enough to use the knife always kept in his boot to slice that accursed flower in half.

The Clown Prince of Crime snarls and clutches at the little stem, all that's left of his precious flower. "Look what you've done now, little ruffian! You've _ruined_ my suit!"

He hurls punch after punch at the Boy Wonder, and though the boy dodges almost all of them with a practiced ease, the fact that they are most definitely quicker and more accurate than normal is not lost on him.

Suddenly, one particular strike makes contact with the back of Robin's leg, and an electric current overtakes the thirteen-year-old for at least a second and a half before he manages to break free.

_Stupid_ _joy-buzzer…_

Backing away from the Joker makes him feel like such a coward, but it is all he will be able to do until his muscles stop spasming and he stops feeling little pinches of pain in his fingers, toes, and other random places. There are definitely burns on his right leg now and possibly up his side, but he's a little too focused on keeping away from the insane man to worry about that at this point in time.

"Oh, dear Richie-poo! Shaking from fear, I see?" The Joker strokes his chin with two fingers and adopts a patronizing, malicious expression. "Not so brave now that Daddy-Bats isn't here to save you if you fall, are you, little one?" He cracks his knuckles and takes slow, decisive steps toward the defiantly glowering thirteen-year-old. "That's the truth, isn't it, boy? You're only the Boy Blunder your friends think you are when your big, bad Papa's here to back you up!"

This next step backward presses Robin against…something that feels strangely familiar…

He turns around: a trapeze tower!

Taking a deep breath, he grabs one of the ladder rungs.

It's climb or die, and he'd like to keep on living.

Scrambling up the ladder as quickly as he can in his state (the spasms have lessened in severity by now, but they're still there and his uniform rubbing against the burns makes moving painful), he dodges the razor-edged playing cards the Joker chucks and makes it to the top safely.

"'Once I saw a little bird,'" the Dean of Dastardliness recites in a slow, low, dangerous tone, beginning to climb after the child in a way that can only be described as predatory, "'Come hop, hop, hop,'" his fingers dig into the rungs so that Robin can practically _hear _the man's nails being peeled back, "'So I cried, "Little bird,'" he is three steps from the top now, and in taking a step back Robin smacks his head on a trapeze, "'Will you stop, stop, _stop_?'"

The madman is here now, but Robin is unafraid. Taking the well-known-and-loved circus instrument in his strong grip, he backs up until his toes are the only thing keeping him on this platform at all.

"Oh, yeah?" he challenges, smirking all through. "How's this one suit you, Mr. Poet?" He pushes off now, letting his starting art take him as he, too, rattles off, "'Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree/Up went Kitty-Cat, down went he,'" he performs a miraculous quadruple somersault like it's nothing, his eerie laughter filling the tent, "'Down came Kitty-Cat, away Robin ran/Says little Robin Redbreast: "Catch me if you can!'"

His one-up is short-lived, however, as he chances a glance back at his pursuer. What he sees is…_unnerving_, to say the very least.

The Joker is smiling—no, _beaming _wider than the boy can ever recall seeing prior, arms folded across his chest as he watches through half-lidded eyes. There is such a triumphant, abnormal taste to this scene that Robin is immediately set on highest alert.

But it's already too late.

A snap.

A strangled cry.

The ground is rushing to meet him.

His parents' red-soaked, contorted corpses flash in his mind's eye.

A blood-curdling scream erupts from within him.

He's going to _die_—!

The sound of a grappling gun firing fills his ears. A rope of a material only two (perhaps three) people in the world can identify wraps around him. And the next thing the Boy Wonder knows strong, protective arms are holding him close.

"Dick…" a deep, beloved voice breathes, relieved and fearful and gorgeously comforting all at the same time, and the thirteen-year-old instantly burrows into the bottomless depths of his adoptive Father's love.

"Bruce…"

* * *

_A/N: _So, yep: Anthony Zucco and the Joker were in neighboring cells in Arkham Asylum (they got moved around a lot until they were put together for 'good behavior,' let's say). That's how the Joker got the tape recorder and then proceeded to use his new knowledge to plan everything out. And Robin knows this entire thing was about revenge, but he never thought the Joker'd go _this _far to get it. Bruce's whereabouts before he shows up at the end will be revealed...as soon as I think up a definite answer to that question. XD So no worries there.

The two poems used in this chapter were (in order of appearance): "Once I Saw a Little Bird" and the first half of "Robin Redbreast." I chose these two because, to me, they seemed to match what was happening with the characters at the time, as well as keep the Joker's little poem-binge going. XD

Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! I would have had it up sooner, but writer's block was slightly edgy (though not much), and this has been the worst A.P. Physics week of my entire life, so...XP Yeah, wasn't totally up for writing... XD But I'm better now - that awesome new ep of YJ really brought my spirits up and gave me a new Batman/Robin father/son oneshot idea! - so I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much as I did writing it!

Thanks so much for all of your amazing, fantastic support! Love you all!


	6. Ticking Time Bomb

_A/N: _This chapter was rather difficult (hence it's shortness! Sorry!), as I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with it after the first page and a half...but I finished it anyway and can only pray it's acceptable! I've been sick all week and busy with school and stuff, so that's why this chapter wasn't up sooner (as well as the whole writer's block thing). XD

And last chapter..._holy crud_! Thank you all _so much_! As always, I love you guys so much! And thank you so much for the support of my other YJ oneshots, too! More coming soon!

* * *

This moment of theirs lasts an eternity and more—a heavenly catharsis to the horror-filled nightmare that has struck this night—but it ends much too soon for either Bat's liking.

"Batsy, Batsy, _Brucie_!" the Joker chants jeeringly from above, a malevolent trill to his voice as he leans forward till he might touch his toes if he reaches down. "Looks like you decided to show up at exactly the right time—_as usual_!" Half-lidded eyes roll. "_Must _you be so predictable?"

Batman growls. Robin eyes him warily, listening to his labored breathing and watching as he clenches his fists so tightly that it is no small wonder when blood seeps through his armored gloves.

Very slowly so as not to startle the Caped Crusader from his inner battle, Robin reaches forward to take the man's hands in his own, and when the Dark Knight looks down at him sharply it is all the boy can do to keep from unceremoniously crumbling.

For in his adoptive Father's eyes there is such a fierce need to protect, such a deeply-felt love that it is all encompassing.

And for all he's become because of this beautiful man, Robin loves him, too. So much.

Finally, jaw set and shoulders squared, Batman moves to stand. But just before, he traces the outline of his beloved Boy Wonder's maskless blue eyes and kisses his forehead lovingly. _You're safe now_, he tells his child silently. _It'll all be over soon_.

Robin revels in the feel of his Father being so close. The hand that still holds Batman's squeezes, and liquid diamonds collect involuntarily in his eyes. _Be careful, please_, he begs. _I can't lose you, too._

So much more is said without words, through their eyes and last-minute touches, but it all fades into the background as Batman turns toward the Joker.

The fight begins, here and now.

"_Ooh_!" The Joker reels back, mock-terrified as he raises his fists to his cheeks. "Batsy's angry-face! What_ever _shall I do?" An overly sardonic smile paints his lips, and he waves one hand dismissively in the air. "Well, there's always this!"

He cackles and cackles and cackles some more, something solely out of place for the insane criminal when one considers its duration. Halfway through it becomes muffled, and there is something eerie and foreboding about the way the laughter stops not five seconds in. With a lean, purple-sleeved arm the Joker points upward to the now-covered hole in the tent's top, and the two heroes' minds race.

And it is only now that Robin notices the tremor in Batman's hunched shoulders, the abrupt sounds that burst from his mouth occasionally. But the man doesn't seem to notice, too intent on trying to figure out the Joker's plan to zero in on his own faults, and with a startled gasp Robin realizes that the same is happening to him.

The madman's mocking them, they _know _that, but _why_? What can he possibly gain from any of this: the hysterical laughter, the muffled voice, closing off the airways—?

Oh, dear God…

Robin stiffens instantly, slapping his hand over his mouth. _This _is what the Joker wants, what he's always been about. The torture and absolute misery of his captives. Dear Lord above, _this _is what he's wanted all along! Both Bird and Bat together, as they've always been—a lure, one for the other, as they are connected by a red string through the heart!

"_B-Batman_!" he shrieks desperately, a hand already reaching for the gas mask kept in his utility belt. "It's—" he is forced to pause for the rush of giggles that slip from his throat, valiantly pushing onward though he coughs violently and can hardly breathe past the effort of holding back the laughs, "—it's his—his gas! P-put on y-your—your m-m-mask!"

Finally breaking from his stupor, the World's Greatest Detective whips around and, throwing on his gas mask as he goes, kneels down to help an uncontrollably shaking Robin with his. Keeping the mask pressed to Robin's mouth with one arm supporting him about the shoulders, Batman feels the boy lean heavily against him as he regains his breath.

This is the most dangerous criminal he's ever fought in all of his years as a vigilante, and now more than ever he realizes how truly this statement rings.

Gotham's Defender understands now why he almost didn't notice the gas in time. The Joker's always been a master chemist—something might be said of this and his current mental and physical state—and this little stunt he's pulled does naught if further prove it.

The gas has been modified to be transparent, to be as dense as air. By launching the undetectable chemical and blocking off their sources of fresh air, they are sitting ducks in a slowly-heating oven.

Looking down at his boy now, the man brushes the child's black bangs from his forehead. If it hadn't been for Dick, he might never have noticed the danger. He'd been too busy striving to read the satanic look in the villain's eyes.

The maniac laughs obnoxiously overhead, and Batman tightens his grip on his weak charge, covering him protectively with his black cape. His partner is in a bad way, and though he isn't quite sure how yet he swears on everything this dark mantle means to him that he's getting his son out of here.

He _must_.

A few seconds more, and the boy's breath returns with tremors subsiding slowly. Some innate sense tells Batman that the threat has passed, and he gently removes the child's gas mask before stashing his own.

A small hand brushes his chest, and the cowl-wearing male gazes down into the thirteen-year-old's deep blue eyes. The younger's smiling faintly, silently thanking his mentor for saving his life while also expressing his relief that the man is all right. Batman reinforces his protective hold on his Bird; likewise, Robin gathers a fistful of his Bat's bodysuit.

Neither would be here without the other. It is how things have always been, and nothing will ever change that.

"You're not fighting him alone, Bruce," Robin vows, and he moves to push himself up in order to size up his mentor, but Batman's arm forces him to stay down. "I've fought with worse, and one little fall," a flicker of a strong-willed smirk comes through, one belonging to the sort of person who's cheated death more times than years he's lived, "isn't enough to stop me. You know that."

Pride pours over the heart of the Caped Crusader unbidden, but it is quickly pushed aside in favor of protective impulse.

"But Dick, he's—"

"Rob! Batman!"

Kid Flash streaks in, the rest of the team trailing behind and coming to a halt in front of the Dynamic Duo. Seeing the two in such disarray frightens the four immensely, but their shock hits its peak when they realize that Robin's mask is missing. The speedster kneels down next to them, a worried hand traveling to the Boy Wonder's shoulder.

"Hey, you okay, man?" He offers a small smile. "You look worse than when we fought Clayface!"

Robin laughs lightly and pounds his best friend's fist. "Been kicked, electrocuted, thrown down some stairs, fallen from a rigged trapeze, gassed—" and despite his friends' terror-stricken expressions, the boy smiles casually all through, "—nothing entirely unusual." He smirks. "I _did_ get to smack the Joker around, though. _Man_, did that feel good!"

Batman's ward casts a glance up at him, and the reluctant man gingerly helps him to his feet. Kid Flash sticks by his side, and the others step up now, too. Superboy looks ready to tear something apart, Aqualad looks lost for words, and Miss Martian looks fit to burst into tears. To think that their youngest has been fighting this madman alone…

"Oh, dear Richie!" The already foul mood spirals downward ever further at the clown-esque villain's voice. "Where have I gone?"

Six pairs of eyes, two more deftly trained, scan the tent. There is no sign of anything yet, but they don't dare take any chances. They can't let their guard down for even an instant; that's one second they'll never get back, and anything can happen in that time.

Suddenly, a _shing!_ and a glint to the far side. "Hit the deck!" Robin shouts, and the four other members of Young Justice dive to the side, while Batman throws himself over his protégé.

Lifting their heads, they see a 'Bang' harpoon sticking out of the ground where they—Batman and Robin, specifically—just were.

But they cannot dwell on this for long as several things seem to happen at once.

Multiple like harpoons rain down on all sides, narrowly missing each fighter at least twice.

Thugs swarm in and attack them, and though it's harder now that they're fighting on two fronts, the six do the best they can.

Robin screams as six well-aimed playing cards nick him about the neck, both arms, both cheeks, and the forehead.

Harley Quinn jumps into the fray, dancing between the Young Justice members and knocking off each one in turn.

The Joker joins in, poking particular fun at the guarding Batman, who hovers at his adoptive son's back.

And then, just as quickly as it starts, the moment ends.

A smoke bomb is thrown in an attempt to give the six cover, and the group manages to elude most of its attackers and take on the rest before coming back together.

Unexpectedly, however, a sharp wind blows through the tent, and when the smoke is gone all that's left is the disturbingly grinning Joker.

"Thanks, Harley!" he shouts, and the jester-woman waves enthusiastically from behind a giant, Joker-shaped fan on the other side of the ring.

"No problem, Mr. J!" She winks. "Give the kid a good one for me—" she reels her fist back and sends it forward in a punching motion, "—right in the kisser!"

The vile man chuckles darkly, glaring keenly at Robin even as Batman attempts to shield him from view.

"Oh, will do, Harley…" he eyes the freshly-bleeding 'beauty-marks' with a spooky, animalistic kind of interest, "…will do…"

The child, he notices, seems ready to expect the unexpected. His response is merely to grin wider. The poor little Birdie doesn't know when he's in over his head, does he?

_Dear Robbie-poo_, he purrs inwardly, _you really don't know what's coming, do you? You don't realize that the next few moments will rip your fragile heart to shreds, will take from you everything you've ever loved. _He cackles. _A shame, really. Such a bright light to be extinguished… _this smile he gives now is the cruelest he's ever born _…but therein lies the fun!_

* * *

_A/N: _The reasons behind the Joker's increased dastardliness and combat skills will be revealed next chapter! Also, I made up the modified laughing gas (or Joker Juice, Joker Venom, whatever). I figured it was time the Joker made a _colorless _one, a less dense one: easier to assassinate people and such with (unless the coloring is just in BTAS to highlight the gas part... XD).

Thanks so much for reading, as always! Rock on!


	7. Dying Day

_A/N: _I know this one's shorter than the last one, and I'm so sorry, but since I haven't had an outline for this since the fifth chapter (I'm basically winging it now), these have become much harder to write. Besides, I'm late for bed, and I don't want to get in trouble with my parents on a school night, so...please forgive me!

So glad you guys likes the last chapter! Your support is _so awesome_, as always! I love you all!

* * *

They are _ready_!

Robin _knows _they are!

They've been trained by the greatest superheroes the universe has to offer.

They've been taught to take the unexpected as it's delivered, combating it and ultimately using it to their advantage as best they can.

So then…if he knows all of this…and if he holds dear his faith that everything will turn out fine, just as it always does…then _why _does he feel like he's missing something _vital_? Something that might mean life or death for any and all of them?

He takes everything in once again in a lightning-quick assessment. He chances a look toward the intensely concentrated Batman. No doubt the man is doing the same.

Inwardly, he smirks grimly, knowingly. The second thing Batman taught him: better safe and alive than sorry and dead.

The Joker, he sees, is examining his most recently-inflicted wounds in a slithering manner.

They're not terribly deep, the gashes, but they're definitely bleeding out; Robin can feel one drop of blood mixed with sweat drip from his chin, and he has to wipe at his forehead to prevent another drop from leaking into his eye.

Really, he isn't surprised, not even when the maniac begins licking his lips. The Joker's always had a fascination with blood, after all, especially that of his enemies.

And then there's the fact that the jester's eyes appear to be flaming, that within their depths dance insanity and bloodbaths.

This has always been the Joker's way.

But what hasn't, the one thing that throws Robin more than anything else, is the way his glance sweeps over everyone besides the Bird, is the inward cackle that Robin can _just _hear.

And though he'd never admit it aloud, it is plain as his pale-white face.

He's _terrified_.

Batman seems to sense this, and though he doesn't move or give any indication of doing so, Robin grows calmer as the seconds pass. The man is calming himself in order to send off waves of tranquility to his frazzled Boy Wonder, and Robin cannot be more grateful.

But just like that, the child's bubble bursts.

The Joker, backing up now until he stands beside the tent's center pole, has lowered his joy-buzzer to the smallest battery cell Robin has ever seen. From there the electric charge travels along a wire, which later splits off into several wires. Not willing to wait to see what's going to happen, Robin follows the wires' major trail.

And truly, it takes all of his self-control not to tug on Batman's hand and beg him to run like the child those unknowing expect him to be. In all honesty, like the child he _is_.

"_Bomb_!"

The second half of the word is drowned out as the blast detonates. From there fifteen additional explosives, set up at strategic intervals around the tent, ignite in succession.

The Joker means to bury them in a show to end all shows, if not blast them off the face of the planet first.

Robin's teammates' screams fill the air, and the thirteen-year-old can only watch helplessly as his friends vanish in a wash of dirt, smoke, and accursed red and white. He calls for them, pleads with all of his heart for them to answer, but he isn't sure even Superboy will be able to hear him over the noise.

The boy surges forward to find them, to guard them no matter the danger he's facing—he's already lost two of the most important people in his life; _please_ don't let him lose these, too!—but he is pulled back almost instantly.

Batman grabs his ward about the waist, forcing the child down as he uses his own body as a shield. He closes his eyes against the desperate, broken cries of his son, holding him tighter to his chest as the child struggles, as the tent and so much more fall down around them.

In what seems like forever, all is quiet.

The tent, what's left of it, is torn to shreds. The ground around them is thrown up, riddled with craters.

But Robin pays none of this any heed.

He doesn't care that his wounds have begun to bleed again, that his burns feel like they're being branded into him all over.

The only thing that matters is finding his team.

Scrambling out of his adoptive Father's arms the moment he can manage it, silently thanking the dearly-beloved man for everything that he's done as he bleeds from his head and his bodysuit is torn in separate places and his cape is very nearly in tatters, he starts the search.

"K.F.!" Just in front of them. "M-Miss M!" Off to the left. "Aqualad!" Farther ahead now. Then to the right. "_Superboy_!" Behind. Digging deeper on all sides.

He continues on like this for numerous minutes more, jumping from spot to spot among the rubble like a flitting bird. Surely they can hear him if they're—! _Surely _they're—they're not—n-not—!

The sobs start now, though he doesn't quite hear them. The only thing he hears at all is his own voice, which is swiftly going hoarse with his never-ending yells. He convulses hysterically, making the burns hurt even more, but the pain only propels him forth.

This is absolutely _insane_! These are his _best friends_—heroes that the Justice League's finest hand-picked and personally trained! They can't just…just _go _like this! If anyone should…it's _him_! _He _is the human; by default and rationality, the _weakest_ of them! They can't…they can't…_leave him _like this!

"_Please_…!" he begs brokenly, only just noticing the tears he's till now taken as commonplace as he clenches his fists and the diamond droplets fall upon them. Batman's shadow overtakes the boy's own, and likewise the man envelopes his son in his solid arms and holds him for all he is worth (_everything_). Robin clutches at his Father, the one person he might well have left now, the one person who always keeps him from the edge. "_Please_…" his legs are so close to giving out, but he dares not surrender to this fully; if he does, he knows there is no turning back, "…y-you _promised_ me…!"

"And do we ever break our promises, Rob?"

His head snaps up, bloodshot eyes darting everywhere at once, and there is no adequate name for the expression that reaches those he thought were gone.

"_Y-you're alive_!"

It's true. Utterly and completely.

A little worse for wear, worse than Cadmus' aftermath—everyone's costume but Miss Martian's is ripped; Kid Flash's goggles are missing, his nose is bleeding, and he has several other knocks and slashes elsewhere, though he has already begun to heal; Aqualad is brushing a thick cover of dirt from his gills, a small bruise is forming on his forehead, he is limping faintly, and he kneads his left shoulder; Superboy, for all of his strength, cannot deny the burns and bruises on his face and neck, or the fact that his lip is split; Miss Martian, in her cloaked form, does not show any sign of injury, thought it is known that she did not come out unscathed.

Robin is crushing them to him before they can blink, is letting out his relief and fear in the form of tears that leave his teammates stunned.

But how can they forbid him this?

For with all the poor child has been through tonight, in his _life_—witnessing his parents' deaths, being the target of his mentor's enemies, harboring the crippling fear that everyone he loves will one day slip from his fingers to leave him alone again, reliving the worst night of his life in more ways than one, nearly losing his adoptive Father and his closest friends—there is everything and more to be said of his heart.

If anyone deserves time to rejoice, it is this Boy Wonder of a child.

The hiss is thought to be imagined at first.

"_Little_…" the disquieting whisper turns to an outright growl soon enough, "…_Robin_…" there is no mistaking the evil intent as a well-known chill travels down the thirteen-year-old's spine, "…_Redbreast_!"

A gunshot.

Searing pain.

Protective arms.

Frantic screams.

Blood…so much…blood…

Colors fade;

Faces blend;

Voices fall away.

Robin's world goes black.

* * *

_A/N: Darn it_! I still haven't answered the Joker question! XP I'll get to it, I swear (I actually meant to last chapter... XD)! Thanks for being so patient!

I hope this is all right! I feel really weird about it - something just seems _off _to me, you know? - but I'll see what you guys think! We authors are our own worst critics, after all!

Thanks so much for reading, as always!


	8. Beating Heart

_A/N: _The writer's block was _killer _this time around! _Gosh_! But I think it's ebbing now, for the most part, so hopefully this turned out all right! I do admit that this is something of a filler chapter at some points, _but _those small points will have major influences on the later chapters!

Your reviews as per last chapter were _amazing_, as usual! Dudes, do you realize I've broken _200 stinking reviews_? I've only done that for one of my other fics, and that has over four hundred chapters! O.O Thank you all _so much_! I love you all! Your support is absolutely fantastic! I hope I can continue to entertain even after this fic ends and I get to work on the other fics I've started or mean to start!

* * *

It takes a split second. A single instant. One moment in time.

Everything meaningful in the life of Bruce Thomas Wayne comes crashing down with the body of his dying son.

Lunging forward, Batman catches his falling child, bleeding out and gasping for air and so very in danger of succumbing to ballistic trauma as he is.

Instantly, the Dark Knight rips open Robin's uniform down the front in order to expose his chest.

And in this moment he wonders whether his rigid discipline in emotional stealth has been for naught.

For he comes so close to giving life to the vengeful roar that surges and builds in his throat, to the crystalline tears that take precedence in his eyes.

The one thousand grain bullet, fired from a .700 Nitro Express rifle, has penetrated the Kevlar body armor just three-and-a-half centimeters above the boy's heart, leaving in its wake a hole in his chest the size of the boy's small palm.

To see him like this, looking younger than he has in years, on the brink of death this way… It brings back so many memories of the night Bruce's parents were murdered, of the panic and fear and torment that plagued his eight-year-old heart. He can still see the blood pooling beneath them on the pavement, the bullet-strewn fur coat of his Mother and the fallen bowler hat of his Father, the loving glassy eyes and final warm breaths burning through the cold of the night.

Reaching down swiftly, he applies pressure to the injury. He only just manages to swallow the childlike cry and the bitter bile rising in his throat as the blood and torn tissue both bathe and squish beneath his hand.

They don't have much time.

Locking his jaw and clenching his teeth so tightly that he can practically hear Alfred's scolding, Batman extracts gauze pads, bandages, and a piece of armor as big as his hand from his utility belt.

With utmost care (if Robin weren't in immediate danger, he wouldn't dream of moving the boy just yet), his free arm snakes around the child's waist and brings him to lean back with black head under his mentor's chin so as to elevate the wound and to get more air to his lungs.

Turning to a wide-eyed, pale, and shaking Kid Flash (as he looks around, none of the others are much better—but _dear_ _Lord_, neither is he!), Batman breaks into action.

"Kid Flash," the teen snaps up, startled out of his petrified stupor, "you need to focus! _All_ of you!" The four's eyes widen ever more as they register the underlying pain in his voice, something surely only Robin would have noticed prior to this tragedy. He hands the speedster the armor and beckons him forward. "Keep pressure on the wound while I wrap him up. _Don't stop_; oxygen entering the wound would be disastrous."

The fifteen-year-old nods vigorously and does as he's told, pushing his weight against the armor-covered injury and mentally apologizing to his best friend when Robin winces and gasps sharply.

The gauze pads and bandages are placed, well-wrapped, and tied off within seconds, pressure points being pressed as he goes to aid in stopping the bleeding, but even with these efforts the child is pale, shaking, and though shock has been avoided for now there is still a chance that it will strike.

They have to get Dick out of here.

Glancing up at Miss Martian, the Defender of the Night's hidden eyes narrow seriously. "It's not safe to move him more than necessary. Can you call your Bio-Ship here? I trust your medical facilities are up to my standards?"

The girl nods shakily. "Y-yes. The ship is within range, and Uncle J'onn made sure everything was running up to par with the Justice League's own infirmary." She closes her eyes and concentrates, and within seconds a whirring is heard at their backs. "It's here."

Batman nods. "Go."

Relinquishing his hold on his son if only for the sake of saving his life, the Knight of Gotham delicately deposits Robin into a protective Superboy's arms, watching as the clone cradles the child to his chest with all tenderness. Carrying the thirteen-year-old inside the ship as quickly as he can without agitating his many injuries, the clone tosses a bright glance over his shoulder.

_Don't force Dick to outlive two Fathers._

And even with this revelation, somehow Batman cannot bring himself to be surprised.

Bruce's head inclines.

_No fear of that. Take care of him._

It is only when the ship's invisible door is about to close a moment later that the Masked Manhunter realizes Aqualad still remains at his side.

Turning to him piercingly, he musters the best glare he can (although his heart pangs with the knowledge that Robin would be cracking up at how pitiful it is in comparison with the usual Batglare).

"Why aren't you with them?" he growls, though this, too, is mostly half-hearted. "Robin, your teammate, is in critical condition! _He_ prevails all else!"

The Atlantean says nothing for half a heartbeat, but finally, taking a deep breath, he advises soundly,

"When you reach the end and face a difficult choice, remember your heart. But more importantly, remember the heart of the one who awaits your return with every fighting breath."

Batman is so stunned at this show of wisdom that he doesn't even comprehend it when the sixteen-year-old leader departs.

Truly, he knows the boy is right. Just as he knows following such sage counsel will not be easy.

But then, as Dick once said, what _is _easy when one is the Night personified?

And it is here that Batman stands.

Clenching his fists, his own dried lifeblood mixes with the fresh flow of his son.

Even apart they are an ever-gravitating force.

Always together.

Of one beating heart.

And the Joker will rue the day he tried to take that away from them.

* * *

"I've never seen him look so…_small_ before…so vulnerable…" the youngest of those conscious remarks breathlessly, so softly in the silence of the made-massive ship that it goes nearly unheard by anyone who isn't Superboy.

After making it inside and moving the Ship to a more secure location a few miles out, stretching farther into the Gotham City outskirts, it had taken Miss Martian's telepathic abilities to calm the frantic, pain-wracked thirteen-year-old.

The numerous IVs that run into his body give him the needed nutrients and medicines meant to heal him, as well as replenish the blood he's lost. The electrodes on his chest, arms, and legs take in his vital signs. (Until now they never thought they'd have need of it, but they are eternally grateful to the Genomorphs for teaching Superboy the ins-and-outs of basic first aid.)

But even here he is pale, sweating profusely with head tossing back and forth and breathing somewhat erratic as he no doubt senses the fact that his Father is nowhere nearby, is about to fly into the heart of danger without his faithful and ever-present son at his side.

Only one thought crosses their minds through all of this:

_When you catch the clown, Batman, _they take Robin's hand and squeeze, _laugh._

* * *

It's never hard to trail a madman. Especially when that man is as mad as the Joker.

There are Joker playing cards lying about the clearing, leading deeper and deeper into the woods until he can no longer see a single inch of the tent. What's more, the lunatic's haunting laughter hasn't stopped since Robin went down.

Feeling his heart clench torturously at the memory of his son being reduced to that writhing, bloody mess—so lost in his pain was he that Dick hadn't released his death grip on Bruce's hand until the man had whispered in his ear something sacred from their past—his pace and drive redouble to levels previously thought impossible.

The Joker hasn't seen anything yet.

* * *

Within, Robin is fighting a battle of his own.

The pain is unceasing, all-surrounding, and altogether paralyzing.

But through it all there is one thing to break through it: the voice of his Father, his warm breath, in his ear, letting him know that everything will be all right, that he is _loved_, in that cryptic-telling way of his that is understood solely by the Boy Wonder himself.

Then, a shift of arms, a separate protectiveness, a change in location.

Another moment now, and a new development arises: one that both alarms and comforts the child throughout.

His Father's presence, felt over everything, has vanished from his heart's sight.

And for all of his knowledge of the man who saved his life four years ago, for all of his knowledge Bruce Wayne's heart that is dearly-kept as his ward and son, Richard John Grayson, he knows without question where the Batman's gone.

_I'm with you, Dad_, he upholds. _Please be careful_.

He can feel his body giving in to the drugs that have begun coursing through his system. But he can't go yet. Not yet. Not with this one piece of himself he still needs to give.

_I love you_.

* * *

Finally, after what seems an eternity, Batman stops.

The trail of Joker cards ends here. The maniac's laughter is so much closer now. His heightened senses easily detect the gunpowder.

He's here.

The light of the full moon concentrates to his left; a face of red, green, and white peeks out from the shadows; and all is out in the open.

"Why, if it isn't Batman!" the Joker croons gaily, though the cruel grin on his face does all to nullify the otherwise welcoming words. "Tell me, how's Boy Blunder? Very much _dead_, I hope."

The Dark Knight falls into this familiar dance of Bat and Insect in defense of his Fallen Bird.

_I love you, too_.

* * *

_A/N: _In researching Bruce Wayne (as I research all of the characters I've never written, as well as those I have if only to get an even _better _grasp on them), I _swear _I found one website that told me his middle name is _Thomas_, after his Father, as is the case with Dick. However, when I looked again to make sure, I couldn't find this website or a confirmation of this, so...if it's wrong, please don't be mad!

If you're wondering, I _did _do my research on the awesome gun and bullet I thought the Joker might have used to shoot Robin, though as to the size of the hole the impact made...I was forced to guess as I couldn't find any accurate measurements. That also goes for the way Bruce goes into 'medic mode' afterward.

And the switch between _superhero_ identities and _secret_ identities _is _meaningful and important to both character and plot development, so if you've gotten annoyed or confused by it, _please _keep that in mind! XD

_Oh! _And guess who's finally nineteen? MWAHAHAHAHA!

Thanks so much for reading, as always!


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